


Together

by virginiasoil



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2016-05-21
Packaged: 2018-06-09 17:15:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6916066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/virginiasoil/pseuds/virginiasoil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"For a moment, she let herself imagine her victory was not so short lived. That she and Bellamy could finally find peace and the last thing she had to do was clean the evidence of war off his face." </p><p>The forehead touches, hug, and conversations the finale (and season) lacked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Together

**Author's Note:**

> because I need these two dorks to be more affectionate and communicate more

The silence that followed Octavia’s bloody exit was the loudest noise Clarke had ever heard. Bellamy was stiff next to her; his brow drawn and chin set. She touched his shoulder gently. “Bellamy?” 

The look he gave her caused another crack to erupt in Clarke’s already shattered heart. After suffering torture, the fear of losing Bellamy, the fear of losing her mother, losing Lexa all over again, and then saving everyone just to doom them, the last thing Clarke wanted to see was am even more broken Bellamy. 

Before either of them could say another word her mother came met them before the throne, followed hesitantly by Kane. Abby gave Bellamy a concerned look. He didn’t see it. His heavy eyes were focused on Pike’s prostrate body. Turning to Clarke instead, Abby asked her how she managed to shut down ALIE. 

“Lexa helped. Raven did too, she gave me a short cut to the kill switch.” 

Abby smiled, “Good, she was able to get in then.” 

Clarke nodded, her eyes still fixed on Bellamy. 

“Are the chips shut down for good?” Kane’s voice was quiet; worried he still wasn’t in control of himself. 

“Yeah,” Clarke sighed, finally turned to her mother and Kane. “But it’s not over.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“ALIE was trying to get everyone into the City of Light to save them. According to her, the nuclear reactors that weren’t destroyed in the war are melting down. In six months only 4% of the Earth will be inhabitable.”

Shock contorted their faces. Even Bellamy was pulled out of his thoughts and turned his head towards Clarke in disbelief. “So what? We all die in six months?” he asked, incredulous. 

“It’s the Ark all over again.” Kane rubbed his face in agitation. “All we did was postpone the inevitable after all.” 

Clarke struggled to find something to say, but her mind was just too tired to search for a solution. Abby, ever the doctor, noticed her exhaustion immediately. “Let’s meet here again in the morning.” Looking around Clarke noticed the sunset casting shadows over the crowd. How long had she been in the City of Light? “We need time to assess injuries and rest. Then we can tell everyone and begin planning what comes next. For now let them have a respite.” Clarke nodded in agreement. 

Abby moved towards Jackson and the pair began to make rounds and assess the damage. Clarke focused once more on the man beside her. His dark, sad eyes were fixed on Pike’s bloody body again. She watched as they flitted to the door where Octavia had stormed out minutes before.

“Bellamy,” she said softly, placing a hand on his arm again. 

“I need to go find her.” His voice broke on the words. 

Clarke eyed him carefully, “You need to rest. Besides, I don’t think Octavia wants to be found right now.” She tried to be as delicate as she could with him. It was no secret to her how much Octavia meant to Bellamy, but she also was fairly certain she knew who was responsible for the now fading cuts on his face and fully aware of how he tended to assume responsibility for Octavia; even for her mistakes. 

Bellamy turned to her, remorse written across his features. “Its all my fault, Clarke. I never wanted… What I’ve done, the example I’ve set…” 

“No,” Clarke tugged on his arm, pulling him closer to her. “You can take responsibility for helping Pike. That was on you. You can even take responsibility for Lincoln if you feel you must. But you can’t take responsibility for her actions, Bellamy. She made her own choices. She is her own person, you can’t protect her forever.” 

“If Lincoln hadn’t of died she would be okay. I’m part of why he is dead. Its that simple, Clarke.” His voice was tight, like he was trying to hold his emotions back. He refused to meet her eye and was instead focusing on the throne behind them. 

“Its not that simple. Every moment since his death she has made her own choices. She wasn’t forced to beat you,” Clarke saw confirmation of her theory as Bellamy’s jaw clenched. “She wasn’t forced to kill Pike. She made those choices.”

“Exactly, she made those choices after learning from me. I made the same mistakes. I followed Pike, I let my anger and hurt cloud my judgment and I did things I can never take back.”

“And you learned from it. You accepted your responsibility and learned from it.” Bellamy huffed with frustration, tears now in his eyes. “Besides, you are hardly the only one with blood on your hands or the only one who has let your emotions cloud your judgment. I’ve done the same thing.” 

“You aren’t her older brother.” 

“And you aren’t her father.” Clarke regretted the words as soon as they came out. Bellamy recoiled from her. She tried to reach out for him again but before she could he turned and strode out of the room. Sighing in frustration, Clarke dropped to sit on the step of the throne’s platform. She meant what she said, Bellamy took too much responsibility for Octavia’s actions, but at the same time the last thing she wanted was to hurt him further. After watching people milling around the room for a moment, Clarke pushed up and followed Bellamy. She was tired of them running from each other. 

He seemed to have the same feeling because Clarke collided with his broad chest as she turned into the hallway. Without hesitation, his large hands steadied her before falling away just as quickly. 

“I shouldn’t have stormed out.”

“I shouldn’t have said that.” 

“No,” he frowned, brushing a stray tear away. “You’re right. I’m not her dad, but since I was six I had to help raise her. And since coming down here…” He just shook his head and looked at the floor. 

“I know.”

Bellamy sighed and looked up at her. Before she knew what was happening he had pulled her into a tight embrace. Clarke buried her head into his neck, clutching tightly at the fabric of his jacket. 

“I’m so glad you are alive,” he murmured against her neck. Shivers went down Clarke’s backbone. 

“You too,” she whispered. Bellamy pulled away first, but before she could get far he pressed a quick, chaste kiss to her forehead. Clarke could feel a blush creeping up her cheeks. “We’ll figure it out in the morning,” she said when he pulled away completely. “The nuclear plants, Octavia, all of it.” 

He nodded, understanding what she really meant. You don’t have to go through losing Octavia alone. We’ll bring her back to herself, together. 

Bellamy let Clarke lead him by the hand to her old guest chambers. The room hadn’t changed, but it felt like centuries had passed since she was last there. She eyed the bed where Lexa had died wearily, the furs and blankets had been changed but to her it still seemed covered in blood. She ripped a strip of cloth off a nearby curtain and dipped it in an abandoned pitcher of water. After pushing Bellamy into a chair she knelt before him and began to carefully clean the blood off his face. His dark eyes tracked her the entire time. Something about the quiet of the room and the intimateness of what she was doing made Clarke feel like she was in another world. For a moment, she let herself imagine her victory was not so short lived. That she and Bellamy could finally find peace and the last thing she had to do was clean the evidence of war off his face. 

When she finished, Clarke moved to set the cloth aside but before she could Bellamy’s larger hand snatched it away, his long fingers brushing against her own. His other hand came up to cup her jaw as he delicately wiped dried blood her nose and a streak of his blood from her cheek and neck, left there after their embrace. 

For a moment they both just examined one another. They were both exhausted and even speaking seemed too momentous a task. Slowly Bellamy lowered his forehead until it rested against hers. Clarke closed her eyes and simply breathed in his presence; the heat of his body anchored her against the worries that still swirled in her mind. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this tired,” he said quietly, breaking the silence. 

Clarke smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I think now, more than ever, we deserve that drink.” 

She felt rather than heard Bellamy’s small chuckle; his warm breath tickling her lips. It sent butterflies dancing in her stomach. Suddenly he stood, pulling her up with him by her arms, careful to avoid the places where needles had punctured her veins. “First, I want to sleep. You take the bed, I’m good on the floor.” 

Clarke gazed back over at the bed and Lexa’s bloodstained body flashed through her mind. She shook her head. “No, not the bed. That’s where… its…” He raised an eyebrow in question. For some reason the explanation stuck in her throat. She knew Bellamy would understand, but somehow it didn’t feel right to talk about her and Lexa with him. It almost felt like a guilty secret she had to hide. 

Bellamy seemed to understand anyways. “That’s where she died isn’t it?” 

Clarke nodded tightly. He stared at her for a second, as if searching for something, before striding over to the bed to pull the largest fur off. He tossed it on the ground and gestured for her to come over. They both started pulling off their boots. As Bellamy unzipped his jacket Clarke removed the tight corset around her waist. She hit the ground first, scooting under the fur from the bed. Bellamy stood above her, frozen in indecision. His gaze flitted to the chair and back to her. He had apparently ruled out the bed as an option as well. Clarke made the decision for him by throwing back the fur and raising an eyebrow. “You are not sleeping in that chair.” 

With a huff of fake frustration he clambered down next to her. For a moment they lay in stiff silence. Clarke’s eyes were just falling closed when Bellamy spoke; his voice was hushed and gentle, his words earnestly sincere. “You can tell me about her, you know. I’m not blind; I know that you had something with her. I won’t lie, she wasn’t my favorite person but if she was special to you… I trust you and I trust that there was something special about her. I’m so sorry you lost her.”

Clarke’s throat felt too thick and a tear slipped down her cheek. “Thanks,” she croaked. “I’m sorry about Gina. I wish I could have met her.” 

Bellamy’s hand found hers beneath the fur. “Thanks. She would have liked you.” 

For a while they lay in the quiet, staring up at the ceiling clinging to each other’s hand like a lifeline. Finally, once her tears had subsided, Clarke turned on her side and studied Bellamy’s face, overwhelmed by a sudden wave of affection for the man beside her; her best friend, her steadfast partner. “We are going to be okay.” 

He turned his head to meet her eyes. 

“We are going to find a way to save our people. We are going to help Octavia. I promise.” 

Instead of answering Bellamy pulled her towards him until her head rested on his chest, just above his heart. Their legs intertwined and they held each other tightly, as if to part would be the worst fate imaginable. 

The last sounds Clarke heard as she finally let her body and mind rest were the steady beats of Bellamy’s heart and his gruff voice murmuring, “Together.”

**Author's Note:**

> angst really is my favorite genre to write, probably because my heart is still 13 even if my body is 20. thanks for reading :) i hope you liked my contribution to the post-finale influx of fics
> 
> and to those who are waiting for me to (finally) update other stories, I'm going to force myself to focus on the next chapter of Surely to the Sea this weekend


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